Confederate
by ErrorPleaseReload
Summary: (THIS IS A DEAD STORY, PLEASE FIND 'Confederate REDUX', WHICH IS THE NEW VERSION!)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not, nor do I claim to, own Harry Potter or Star Wars**

* * *

**Confederate**

**Chapter 1**

**Hunt**

* * *

_**War grips the galaxy!**_

_**As the CLONE WARS extend across entire systems, SEPARATIST and REPUBLIC supply lines grow longer and more under-protected. Pirates and convoy raiders alike harass convoys civilian or otherwise, striking fear into all spacefarers. Few of these convoy raiders are as feared, nor as successful, then the mysterious Captain HARRY POTTER of the SEPARATIST ALLIANCE. His fleet of destroyers has left two entire sectors in chaos as desperately needed aid is unable to reach the REPUBLIC loyalists! It is up to ANAKIN SKYWALKER and his padawan, AHSOKA TANO to bring this privateer to justice!**_

* * *

The door to the bridge of the _Resolute _slid open rather noisily, allowing a pair of figures access to the bustling station.

The taller of the two was a young man perhaps in his twenties with a head of unruly, dusty hair. His uniform, far from the military sharpness typically seen in Republic officers, was a mix of dark blues and reds, bearing the emblem of the Jedi Order on his shoulder pads. Though he did not look like much, this Jedi Knight was one of the most infamous of his order, known across the galaxy as the 'hero with no fear'. Justifiable, as this Jedi was one to lead from the front with a lightsaber in hand, commanding his legion in glorious combat.

The other, more diminutive Jedi was a young woman in her early teens. Her orange skin certainly contrasted with the pale tone of her fellow, though given the presence of other species in the galaxy beyond human, her kind was not an uncommon sight. The most stand-out part of her appearance was, however, her _'lekku_', tentacle-like appendages on her head, a defining feature if the Togruta race.

These two were, in order, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and his Jedi Padawan: Ahsoka Tano. These two were the Jedi commanders of the infamous and skilled 501st legion, and commanders they certainly were. Though they had a tendency to be hard-headed and brash, the duo were competent as they were skilled.

"General on deck!" A trooper dressed in a drab, blue uniform barked, snapping off a crisp salute to the duo of Jedi. The rest followed suit, even the wizened admiral.

"The council has a mission for us, Admiral?" Anakin asked in the form of greeting, the men returning to their stations and tasks soon after. The 'Admiral' as he was called was taller than even Anakin, his brown hair and mustache beginning to show shades of grey, as per his age. However, the life in the man's eyes was of a far younger man, a younger man not yet ready for his age to slow him down.

To the man's side was one Captain Rex, a clone Captain serving as a commanding clone officer of the legion and Anakin's most trusted accomplice. He held his helmet under one arm, standing stock straight with only the slightest hint a grin at his lips.

"Indeed, sir." The Admiral stated, manipulating the console attached to the table that now separated the Jedi from the two officers, "We have received reports of several squadrons of Separatist convoy raiders operating in this sector. Our task is to either capture or kill their commanding officer."

"Who is this slimeball, then?" Anakin asked, crossing his arms as a hologram took shape before them.

"Captain Harry Potter of the 4th Destroyer Squadron and acting commander of the 23rd Convoy Raiding Fleet." The man that appeared was not a neimoidian, nor any of the other primary races leased out to the Confederacy from their many (shadow) supporting companies. He was a man, though one that seemed to have reached the end of his golden years. Lines of exhaustion and age had taken form across his face, only bringing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead into sharper relief. His hair, a mop of black, seemed to still be healthy, though for how much longer remained to be seen. His expression was severe, that of a practiced and disciplined officer of the military. His piercing eyes glared forwards, hidden behind a pair of rather archaic spectacles.

His crisp uniform, likely the grey of the Confederate Admiralty, was all they could see of his thrust forward chest, his officer's cap held under one arm.

"Certainly no Grievous," Commented Ahsoka off-handedly as she stared up at the severe face of this man.

"The most normal looking ones tend to be the worst, what do we know about this Potter, Admiral?" Anakin asked, redirecting his attention back to the Admiral, who was now reading from a datapad.

"Harry James Potter, aged 42 standard years, formerly ship officer of the Commerce Alliance Enforcer Fleets Division. He is Five foot five inches and is a legal resident of Raxus Secundus."

"Legal Resident?" Ahsoka repeated, eyeing the Admiral with confusion.

"His place of birth is not listed."

"Not important," Anakin said dismissively, waving a hand, "What do we _need _to know about this sleemo?"

"Captain Potter commands four squadrons of raiders, though only one does he do directly. His ship," The hologram shifted to that of a Light Destroyer, though one that seemed seriously stripped down, "Is the _Ginevra's Revenge_, signified by the lightning bolt painted off the port bow."

A brief flash on the hologram displayed the rather simplistic marker for all to see.

"Seems he takes pride in that scar of his." Rex commented, eyes narrowed as he took in the ship, "And that is no regular Destroyer."

"Correct, Captain," The Admiral agreed, bringing one of the gun decks into view, "Captain Potter's danger comes from his quick and devastating attacks, relying upon fast and lightly armed ships to pursue and destroy convoy ships." The hologram quickly changed to display four other ships alongside the _Ginevra's Revenge_.

"Captain Potter's preferred fleet is made up of five similar Destroyers."

"You said the Captain commands several other squadrons?" Anakin brought up.

"Aye, sir. He commands the three other squadrons of the fleet, all made up of, primarily, heavy frigates."

Anakin nodded slowly, scratching his chin as he studied the fleet, which appeared in its entirety on the hologram.

"Where did a Captain get a fleet this size?"

"Allegedly, his superior suffered a serious injury which led to his death aboard a medical station. In the period that the Separatists looked for a replacement, Captain Potter more than proved his competence in subsequent raids, showcasing a 100% success rate. As such, the Seps have put a permanent hold on the search for a replacement Admiral, though refuse to promote the Captain."

Anakin scoffed, looking at the man's face again with a sneer.

"Odds are he was the reason for his commanding officer's injuries?"

"Most likely, sir."

"Huh… Typical. Why did the Council decide to send us, then? He's just one man with a few underpowered Destroyers."

"I wondered as much as well, sir," The Admiral brought up a new hologram, a Sullustan that Anakin quickly identified as a Jedi, based on his robes, "That is, until I learned they had sent another Jedi General after the venerable Captain. General Ruuan," Anakin silently admitted he was unfamiliar with his fellow Jedi, a regrettable case, "was dispatch to engage the Captain. He went silent and it wasn't until a week later his fleet of three Venators were found destroyed, alongside the convoy they were escorting."

Shock rippled through the crew at that announcement, it was rare for entire fleets of Venators to be wiped out with news reaching someone. Fear and hints respect for Captain Potter rose among them, not that any present would admit as much.

"All of them?" Ahsoka repeated, more stunned than truly disbelieving. The Admiral nodded, bringing the damage on one of the Venators into sharper relief.

"The damage suffered in indicative of proton torpedo scoring, a task I believed impossible given that fact that the Captain stripped his ships of hangars to make room for light turbolasers."

"So they sent us after this guy?" Anakin asked, leaning onto the table and taking in the full damages suffered by the Venators, their bridges ripped apart and their hulls split.

"General Yoda spoke of your… _hem_, unorthodox manner of fighting, sir." Anakin cracked a smile at the rather uncomfortable expression of his Admiral and words of the Jedi Master.

"I can't tell if that is a roundabout way of insulting or complimenting me." Anakin mused aloud.

"Probably a bit of both, Master." Ahsoka joked, earning an amused glare from Anakin.

"Regardless, sir, I've taken the chance of writing up a few preliminary plans. The simplest would be the send forth a decoy convoy," The hologram displayed a line of four convoy ships, unescorted, "Upon the Captain's arrival to destroy them, we arrive with the _Resolute, Saviour, _and _Treatise_, engaging the fleet."

Anakin watched the hologram for a moment before shaking his head.

"No, even a womp rat would smell this as a trap. We'll have to send at least one ship in as an escort, giving the convoy a sense of authenticity. Admiral, have the _Saviour _move half its fighter and bomber compliment into the _Treatise_, the latter will act as the escort."

"Sir?" Asked the Admiral, a request for an explanation.

"The _Treatise _will need the fighters to help deter the squadron until we can arrive. The moment they are engaged, we will jump in and engage Potter's ship."

"What if we aren't attacked by his fleet?" Ahsoka asked, clearly incredulous at how successful this plan would be.

"Then we capture one of the ships and track Potter to his base, either way, he'll be gone," Anakin shrugged, evidently still not seeing this Captain as much of a threat. There was, likely, a good reason that he had never heard of Ruuan.

"Indeed, sir. We have been granted a collection of four dummy convoy ships, all filled with damaged or destroyed equipment. This should trick the Captain's scanners should he be suspicious."

Anakin gave a sagely nod before clapping his hands together.

"Well, everything seems to be in order, then. Let's get to work."

* * *

Sometime later, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, and Admiral Yularen stood aboard the primary bridge of the _Resolute_, listening to the radio chatter of the _Treatise _and its convoy.

"Arrival at the junction in T-minus twenty seconds." One of the operators on a convoy ship stated.

"Copy, cycle shields and hyperdrive upon arrival, we will be five seconds behind you."

"Copy that, _Treatise_."

The _Resolute _and _Saviour _sat in the open void of space, a minute jump from the junction that the _Treatise _and its convoy were making a brief stop at. Despite his incredulity at Captain Potter's abilities, the man _was _a Seppie after all, Anakin was prepared for anything. What they lacked in skill, Confederate officers made up for in slime.

"We've arrived at the junction, making way to the hyperspace point."

"Copy, convoy, repositioning."

"Jump in T-minus fifteen seconds- Wait, abort!" All attention turned towards the voice now, which was a mix of panic and anticipation, "Five ships are dropping out of hyperspace!"

"Copy, convoy. _Resolute_, a squadron of five… Destroyers have dropped out of hyperspace. Repeat, five destroyers!"

Anakin allowed a smile to slip onto his face, it was almost too easy.

"Copy, _Treatise_," Yularen took over from there, speaking to the Captain of the vessel, "Scramble your fighters and order the convoy ships to retreat to your stern."

"Aye, sir." The radio chatter became incomprehensible for a period, Yularen barking orders across the bridge.

"Well, that was easy," Ahsoka echoed Anakin's thoughts, walking up alongside her master to watch as the _Resolute_ jumped into hyperspace.

"The battle isn't here yet, Snips," Anakin warned, though it was an empty admonishing.

"You're worried?" Disbelief coated Ashoka's words as she regarded her master with a raised eyebrow.

"Hardly. One glorified privateer is hardly a threat." Anakin scoffed, amused as well as annoyed that he was wasting time that could have been spent fighting the war chasing what was, for all intents and purposes, a pirate.

The short, loud ride, however, came to an abrupt and wholly unexpected end when the _Resolute_ and, by extension, the _Saviour _wrenched from hyperspace. So unexpected was it that both Jedi were sent stumbling forwards, unable to catch themselves in time to stop from falling. Yularen, who had been standing at a holotable, managed to catch himself only by luck.

Much of the crew were not so lucky.

"Ugh… Report, what was that?!" Anakin demanded, stemming the blood streaming from his nose as he rose back to his feet.

"I… I don't know, sir! Something dragged us out of hyperspace!" Yularen called from his position, staring out the window with shock written out on his face, "Though loathe I am to admit this, that is far from our biggest problem."

Anakin, rather confused and incredulous at the thought that the Confederates may have managed to create a machine capable of replicating a gravity well, rose and stared out into the void of space.

They were still several hundred kilometers away, but it was clear the ambush was not going as planned for the Republic. Two of the four convoy ships were already disabled, floating away with flames erupting from their damaged hulls. Somehow, the _Treatise _had been separated from the rest of its convoy, forced to engage four of the five ship squadron. Two of the destroyers had made their way before the large Republic warship, firing their lightened weapons viciously into the shielded hull of the Venator. The other two attacking it dodged around above, dipping in and out of the effective range of the main turbo lasers. The last destroyer was engaging the remaining convoys, who had abandoned any semblance of order in their desperate bid to escape the larger and faster ship. It had been peppering the hull of the nearer convoy ship when the _Resolute _and _Saviour _made their surprise arrival. There was no pause, displaying the reactions only capable of droids, all five ships made instantaneous and simultaneous about-faces, making their way towards the same vector they had, probably, arrived from.

"Admiral put the engines on full, we can't let them get away!" Anakin ordered, but he knew it was a hopeless endeavor. It would be ten minutes, give or take, until the duo of Venators would arrive, and the Seppies would be long gone by then.

"Aye, sir!"

* * *

The squadron did make their escape no more than a minute after the fleet's arrival, but that was no longer Anakin's primary concern.

They were now down two convoy ships and fifteen troopers. Each convoy ship was crewed with a skeleton team of four troopers each, the remaining seven lost in the resulting battle of fighters. The Captain of the _Treatise_ stood before the commanding staff of the fleet in hologram form aboard the _Resolute_, his face set in equal parts embarrassment and anger.

"The squadron of ships jumped in and dispatched fighters attached to their hull, my scanner team believes the droids may have been attached via magnets or some such way. I ordered the convoys to attempted moving behind the _Treatise_, but two of their number managed to slip below us while we attempted to deal with the two peppering out shields from above. This forced the convoys to flee into the waiting guns of the final ship, which managed to dispatch two of them prior to your arrival."

"Very well, Captain. Is that all there is to your report?" Yularen asked as Anakin mulled over the new found information, waving away the medic that continued to try and inspect his nose. Its bleeding has since stopped, but it now seemed rather inflamed. Ahsoka, on the other hand, seemed to have held on to some of her Jedi grace and got out of the fall without so much as a scrape.

She, thankfully, did not comment.

"Admiral, hail the commander of the _Saviour_."

"Aye, sir." A moment passed, and the _Treatise_'s Captain was soon joined by that of the _Saviour_.

"Now, we need to address what happens next, and on that same note, how did they pull us out of hyperspace?" Anakin asked, thoughtful looks taking the many expressions of his fleet's command crew.

"There are very few things in the galaxy capable of activating the emergency stop of a ship, and I am certain that Seppie didn't have a moon stuck on a tow cable behind him," Rex commented lightly, the Captain's attempt at humor earning a few wry smiles from the collected officers.

"The power source needed for a gravity well generator is also far too great to be merely dragged along by a destroyer, nor would one of them be capable of powering it as well as their weapons and engines."

Anakin, who had been deep in thought about how they would proceed perked up at Yularen's words.

"Admiral, what if they were to lower the strength on the ship's weapons and engines?" All eyes turned to Skywalker, understanding beginning to wash over them all after a few brief moments of confusion.

"Perhaps," Yularen seemed the most hesitant to agree, "But that would leave the ship with underpowered weapons, nearly nonexistent shields, and severely weakened engines. The only thing a ship in that state could battle would be a gunship or perhaps a light… convoy… ship." Realization filled Yularen's face, pushing him to quickly pull up the hologram of one Destroyer, "Of course, General, that's ingenious."

"It is?" Anakin repeated, he hadn't really much of an idea past the fact that one of the ships _might _be purposely weakening themselves to power a generator.

"Yes, sir. The main for destroyers are there to engage or distract the escorts while the weakest of the five destroyers focused on the convoy ships. They, being incapable of fighting back, would be easy pickings even in its weakened state."

"If that's the case, how'd the destroyer keep pace with the other four clanker ships?" Rex asked, clearly not a naval man.

"The Seps just switched it off and redirected power to the engines and shields."

"They can just… do that?" Ahsoka asked, shocked more than anything. Redirecting power like that wasn't an easy task, and required several sections of the ship working in tandem to complete.

"With a droid crew purposely reprogrammed and drilled, as well with good enough communication between one another, anything is possible. The advantage of having a droid crew.." Yularen muttered, drawing glares from the many clones present on the bridge. Quickly realizing his mistake, the man put his hands up in surrender, "I meant in the engineering department! The remainder of the crew is far better suited to be _organic_."

"Regardless," Anakin brought the Admiral's attention back, the man clone crewman still seeming put out, "Captain Potter is shaping up to be more and more of a problem than originally expected."

"Is that… respect, sir? For a Seppie?" Rex's tone was joking, but the sheathed warning was still there. It was paramount to treason to compliment or speak positively of a Separatist officer. So much of the Republic propaganda portrayed them as mindless, incompetent terrorists who rarely if ever won.

"Only roundabout, he's still a sleemo, and I will rest easy when he can't destroy any more convoys. Back to the subject at hand, how do we find him? He'll be cautious, now, likely not directly involving himself in any raids until his nerves calm."

"Then we fall back to your earlier plan, sir," Yularen explained, altering the hologram to display a squadron of four heavy frigates, "If we can manage to capture one of the other ships, we will likely be able to trace it to wherever Potter is operating from."

"So, we have the basis of a plan, but we've got two convoy ships and Potter's going to be on the defensive." Rex summed up, silencing the growing excitement among the officers. They had the trap, now they needed to bait to draw Potter out…

"Sir!" A communicator officer turned in his seat, addressing Yularen with his headset still on, "A convoy is reporting that they are under attack about five minutes out from here!" Silence reigned for a few moments, suspicions growing within the minds of the crew. This seemed… painfully convenient.

"Captains, prepare for jump in two minutes. Commsman, report our imminent arrival," Yularen ordered, the officers quickly set to work. As the holograms of the other two officers vanished, Anakin turned his attention upon the comms officer.

"Commsman, what is the cargo of those convoy ships?" Confused, the officer repeated the question to the convoy. His confusion only grew as he responded to Anakin's inquiries.

"Nothing, sir. They were returning from a mission." Anakin fell silent, his suspicions roused only further at the unveiling of this information.

"A man of Potter's acclaim would never make the rookie mistake of attacking an empty convoy," Anakin noted, earning a confused glance from the communications officer. Anakin's musings were soon joined by the arrival of his trusted Admiral.

"This is, in all likelihood, a trap to draw us out into battle on his terms." Yularen commented at the _Resolute _jumped into hyperspace, "But, we cannot waste a chance to catch him."

Anakin was hard-pressed to disagree, but he loathed the thought of knowingly marching into a trap set by a Seppie. Potter was, at least on initial inspection, a cut above the usual crop of Confederate officers.

The bridge was alight again with movement, excitement as well as anticipation mingling among the crew as they prepared for another meeting with Captain Potter. Only the older or more perceptive of their number seemed to realize that they were flying headfirst into a trap, but their trust in Anakin and Yularen proved to be the more controlling belief.

The young Jedi Knight hoped to not disappoint today.

He remained stoic on the bridge, sensing Ahsoka's own excitement intertwined with that of his men, an amusing if slightly worrying sign. A Jedi excited for battle was always a recipe for disaster, filthy rich coming from him. However, he knew not to grow too overconfident, his hand a grim reminder of what could happen. Ahsoka, hopefully, would not learn a lesson as harsh, or more so, than her master.

"Arrival in T-minus thirty seconds, sir!" One officer called up to Anakin amid the chaos of readying crewmen. Anakin nodded, looking back out of the glowing viewports.

"Brace yourselves, the clankers will probably have a gravity well up!" The helmsman warned, strapping himself into his seat and bracing. Most everyone else present did the same, Anakin rushing for one of the seats around the holotable. Yularen, Ahsoka, and Anakin braced themselves - Rex seemed to have made his escape elsewhere on the ship -, expecting the ship being dragged to a sudden stop.

Yet, it did not come. The ship stopped, but far closer and far more stable than any of them expected. Anakin blinked, look out the viewport as the _Treatise _and _Saviour _soon joined the capital ship. Before them, the quintet of destroyers decimated the under armed convoy fleet.

"Lieutenant?" Yularen asked, quickly unfastening himself and rising to his feet.

"It seems the Seppies weren't expecting new arrivals, sir. Their generator is down!" The mentioned officer responded, looking from his seat over at the sensor array a few stations down. Amusement bubbled through the crew before they rushed to ready the _Resolute _for combat. Anakin used the moment to study the 'battle' before him.

The Dreadnaught sent to protect the fleet was left to face four of the five destroyers on its own. Had it been only one, it might have had enough firepower and shielding to win, but all four was too much for the smaller ship. Flames and explosions erupted across its battered hull, signifying the battle was soon to be over. The final destroyer, on the other hand, was engaging the remaining convoys. Instead of the hail of crimson bolts its kin fired, the ship sent scattered, but accurate, shots after the smaller craft. It was clear which one was carrying the gravity well generator.

"Sirs, the Seppies have raised their gravity well!"

"What?" Yularen exclaimed with shock displayed on his mustached face as he regarded the sensor officer, "Why _now_? Why after we already arrived?"

"It doesn't matter, Admiral," Anakin announced, leaving the bridge with Ashoka hot on his tail, "Order the _Treatise _to engage the lone ship and move the _Saviour _and _Resolute _to assist the Dreadnaught."

"Sir? Where will _you _be?" Anakin grinned at the tired question of his trusted second in command.

"Doing what I do best, Admiral."

* * *

There was nothing more relaxing, and exhilarating, for Anakin Skywalker then flying his ETA-2, weaving around Seppie starfighters in a glorious show of prowess and blaster fire. Hundreds of Vulture Droids had detached themselves from the hulls of the destroyers to engage the fighter complement of the three Star Destroyers, but their effectiveness was limited. Evidently, Potter's fleet was not prepared to fighter nor capital ship warfare. Strangely enough, however, his four destroyers refused to break off from their attack on the Dreadnaught.

"Blue-2, Blue-3, on me, we're clearing a path for our bombers on Potter's ship."

"Aye, sir," The clones responded, their fighters falling in behind Anakin's starfighter. The massive destroyer took up his viewport, glancing shots of red roaring by as Anakin sped through the cloud of fighters.

"Hey, Slammer, loser pays for drinks?" Chattered one of Anakin's wingmen.

"You got it, Ghost, but I've already got fifteen-"

"Focus, guys," Anakin admonished them over the radio, moving his fighter slightly to avoid one of the heavy cannons of the destroyer, "I don't want losses from a lapse of attention."

"Copy, lead." Came their slightly subdued responses, the green bolts of their fighter's laser cannons flickering out past Anakin. A pair of vulture droids erupted in flame, the rest of their wing scrambling out of the Republic fighters' ways.

"Sir, Tri's are flanking around, they're moving to intercept the bombers!" Another pilot warned over the radio, Anakin's sensor warning him at the same moment. With assistance from the force, Anakin spotted the wing of interceptors making a run on the under protected bombers.

"Blue-2, Blue-3, pull back and support the bombers; I can handle things up here."

"Copy, Blue-lead, pulling back." Both of the fighters twisted around, darting into the cloud of fighters battling. Anakin allowed himself a brief grin, now that he didn't have to mind his wingmen he could really have some fun.

"Okay, clankers, let's go for a ride…" Anakin murmured, activating the boosters to give his fighter the kick it needed. The vultures were fast, but not that fast. Pulling up, Anakin ignored the sensor warning him about the three dozen fighters giving pursuit. He weaved to and fro, dodging the hail of missiles and crimson blasters. Certain he had a good enough number of fighters, Anakin dove down on the _Ginevra's Revenge_, namely one of its heavier cannons. Given how the ship was orientated, only one side of its sides were facing the damaged dreadnaught. That meant an entire complement of heavy cannons were merely pointed off into the endless blackness of space, doing nothing.

That had always been a question of Anakin's, why were Seppie ships built like this? A ship designed for broadside runs seemed highly inefficient for modern combat, especially given the fact that they were (allegedly) purpose-built and dedicated warships.

Ignoring that train of thought for a time, Anakin flew directly at one of the new slowly turning turbo lasers. Its twin barrels raised simultaneously, beading in on Anakin as he closed the distance between himself and it.

"Come on…" He growled, flinching as a blaster bolt glanced off his wing, "Fire…"

After the gunner seemed to take its sweet time, the twin barrels erupted and spewed forth a pair of titanic plasma bolts, hurtling through the emptiness of space and directly at Anakin's tiny fighter.

That was, however, what Anakin had been banking on. With a twist of his yoke, he watched as the bolt roared by and directly into his pursuers.

"Good work, sir! Bombers making their run, let's send this Seppie back to whichever cave he crawled out from!" Anakin grinned like a madman, looking out his cockpit at the massive destroyer, spying the yellow bombers diving towards its bridge.

It took Anakin a moment to notice something was wrong, a dark mass was moving against the backdrop of the destroyer, moving as one continuous group. They were flowing out from beneath the larger ships 'armor'...

"Echo squadron, break, more fighters incoming!" Anakin barked over the radio as he spun his fighter around. There was no time, however, as even the bomber's escorts had broken off earlier, assuming the way to be clear. The wave of reinforcements roared in and decimated the bombers, now engaging the hopelessly out of position and out-numbered clone fighters.

At least there was a ray of hope.

"This is the _Treatise_, we have engaged the lone destroyer!" Anakin allowed a glance towards the ship in question, relief dawning on his features as the Star Destroyer engaged the smaller Seppie destroyer. They exchanged fire, but it was clear the destroyer was outmatched even at full power, and definitely so at its current state.

Just when it seemed the destroyer's shields were about to fall, however, Yularen's confused and terrified voice came in over the radio.

"_Treatise_, there are incoming ships off your port side… they have _Separatist _call signs!" Anakin's eyes widened, shifting in his seat to look out at the _Treatise _once more. The massive ship was slowly turning to face where the newcomers were coming from, but it was too late. A squadron of four heavy frigates appeared, dragged out of hyperspace by the gravity well generator. It took Anakin a moment to realize that this was all part of Potter's plan.

The heavy frigates, all arranged 'above' the _Treatise_, quickly gunned their engines and opened fire with their array of under-hull turbolaser batteries. Unlike Potter's destroyer's, these frigates were fully armed.

"_Treatise_, pull back!" Yularen ordered, but it was a hopeless gesture. The newcomers quickly closed around the Star Destroyer, forcing it to face them all lest it expose its engines to their overwhelming firepower.

"We can't! _Resolute_, we'll buy you time!" One of the _Treatise_'s turbolasers made one last desperate shot, somehow managing to sheer the back of the destroyer apart. Evidently, that was enough to shut down the gravity well.

"Negative, _Treatise_, we aren't leaving without you," Anakin stated over the radio, his tone brooking no argument.

"We can't move- Wait… Are those… Boarding craft, inbound!"

* * *

Anakin stood in the medical bay thirty minutes later, arms folded behind his back as he looked out the window, into the vastness of space. All around him, the injured pilots from the battle were tended to by their brothers and medical droids alike.

"Blame yourself for the loss of your ship, you should not." Yoda's calming voice spoke in the form of a hologram, the diminutive Jedi standing alongside Anakin. Anakin sighed, lowering his head and closing his eyes.

"How could I have fallen for such an obvious trap?" Anakin wondered aloud.

"Captain Potter, if our records are to be believed, is far more crafty than his counterparts. He likely knew how desperate you were to catch him, even if that meant marching straight into a trap." Obi-Wan's hologram joined them, the Jedi calling in from a battle elsewhere in the galaxy.

"And it cost me the _Treatise _to realize that."

"No difference a single ship can make, but the last of Captain Potter we have not seen."

* * *

_**Some folks are born, made to wave the flag.**_

"Fortunate Son, Creedence Clearwater Revival, 1969. Come _on_, 188, are you even trying anymore?" Harry James Potter, Captain of the _Ginevra's Revenge_, bemoaned, leaning back in his Captain's seat and glaring balefully at the droid in question. 188, or TV-188, was a tactical droid designated to assist the Captain in his work commanding the fleet.

"I am unable to find a single song on your playlist, Captain, that you do not recognize by the first few words." The droid, somehow, managed to sound annoyed, despite its inability to inflect. Harry groaned theatrically, rising to stare out the viewscreen of his ship, towards his newest catch. The Venator-Class Star Destroyer, formerly known as the _Treatise_, floated aimlessly around the fleet, being field repaired by the crew of the _Inquisitor_. The gravity-well ship had suffered heavy damages, forcing them to abandon it. Harry wasn't too proud to admit he got a rather neat reward out of the deal in the form of a new capital ship for his fleet.

"I believe Admiral Tulleron's earlier appraisal of your kleptomania was correct, Captain. Your love for stealing enemy ships will be your downfall." The droid continued, joining him in staring out at the newest addition to their fleet. Harry scoffed, waving the droid off.

"I don't think I'd take the evaluations of a man who managed to shoot himself in the chest with a blaster seriously, 188."

"Admiral Tulleron's brain was well functioning, even if his blaster and hands were not." Deciding that arguing with a droid was a recipe for disaster, Harry returned to his seat and pushed down an unmarked button at his right hand.

"All ships, upon the completion of the _Turncoat_'s repairs, please return to you designated bases, Captain Potter, out." Releasing the button, the Captain leaned back and regarded the fleet for him, fingers steepling on his lap.

The Republic hunting him more actively would prove to be troublesome, so he was now forced to redesign his operations in the local sectors… _and he had just the idea_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Harry Potter!**

* * *

**Confederate**

**Chapter 2**

**Plot**

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**War grips the galaxy!**

**After defeating ANAKIN SKYWALKER and his honorable fleet using underhanded tactics and deceit, the privateer HARRY POTTER continues his reign of terror against REPUBLIC and civilian convoys! However, the greedy CAPTAIN is no longer pleased by just attacking convoys, and has his sights set on a far larger target…**

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Despite the speed in which ships can travel between planets and major ports, the space between each stop is actually quite vast. Countless millions of lightyears exist between even Coruscant and Anaxes, as an extreme example, that have never nor ever will be seen. There could exist an entire planet in that expanse, a long forgotten colony of Coruscant's, lost to time. In most instances, however, they are empty and devoid of anything, even light.

Deep in the vastness of space, an asteroid formerly owned by the Commerce Alliance drifted aimlessly. It was estimated that in roughly fourteen million years it might pass within ten lightyears of a civilized planet, but until then it was unknown. To cover up the Commerce Alliance's involvement in the Confederacy, the asteroid was sold to Harry Potter's former commanding officer. Though, technically, it was now an unowned piece of rock, the Commerce Alliance never came back to recollect, so Harry happily continued to use it as his base of operations.

It was here that his squadron returned, now missing a destroyer but supplied with a fully (see mostly) functioning Venator-class Star Destroyer. Harry was obscenely pleased with himself, it took little more effort than launching three boarding craft. One for the engine and two for the bridges. From there, just threaten to space the entire ship unless the crew surrendered, and what do you know, Harry found himself with a ship's worth of prisoners and a really large carrier.

"Orion Base, this is _Ginevra's Revenge_, sending access code," The droid comms unit spoke in its high, if slightly endearing, voice to its counterpart on the station. A few moments passed before it spoke up again.

"Roger, roger. Moving to bay 13a. Ah… Negative, the Star Destroyer is ours." The helmsman, having either heard the conversation or got the order through the droids' interconnected brains, brought their destroyer towards the asteroid. A cityscape covered its grey surface, bright lights flashing out at the approaching squadron like little pinpricks of stars. A docking bay, which could have housed a squadron of a size twice that of Harry's, quickly opened up to allow _Ginevra's Revenge_ entry. Hundreds of droids held to the structure by magnets, tether, jetpacks, or a combination of all three, waited until the destroyer came to stop before descending upon it like a swarm of bees, sparks flying from the damaged portions of the hull as the droids repaired the battle damage.

"188, have the other squadrons returned to their bases?" Harry asked, rising from his seat, ignoring the comm droid as it announced to the crew that they had arrived. A pointless endeavor, really, as most of the crew was droids and they already knew of their arrival. The only other organic on the ship, barring Harry, was a Twi'lek woman that served as Harry's sane connection to the engineering bay. As useful as droids were, they were hell to communicate with when discussing what was wrong with his ship.

"All but the third fleet, my lord." TV-188 droned, matching Harry's quick pace out of the bridge, datapad held at its side, "They encountered a Republic security force, and are currently plotting a pattern of jumps to dissuade pursuers."

Harry scratched his chin, thinking as he navigated the seemingly identical maze of hallways that made up the Confederate ships. The featureless grey, which had once been the greatest cause of Harry's ceaseless migraines, soothed him and allowed the aging Captain to think. The straight lines and 90o angles gave a feeling of order, and order was the best backdrop to plotting one's move in war.

And plot Harry had to, for he had lost his greatest asset and yet gained one of equal worth. The Gravity Well Generator he had strapped to his destroyer was three months of paychecks, and two weeks straight of having Emi'rah working with engineers to actually make the damn thing function. Not, however, Harry's had a massive Star Destroyer at his disposal, one he would get the most use out of the sooner he used it. He had the starts of a plan, but sadly he needed information, information that would take time to cut out of the minds of the crew and databases. Until then, the _Turncoat _was just an oversized battlestation, for Harry dared not bring it into the fast-paced combat he preferred. Where his destroyers were like scalpels, cutting away at convoys and defensive ships with precise and practices movements, the Venator was a sledgehammer, just bring down the entire fucking foundation.

There were two distinct advantages Harry now had with that glorified, and proverbial, mallet. Firstly; the officers of the Republic had no idea how to fight their own ships, certainly when used with how Harry intended to use it should he ever be caught out. Secondly; for the time being, Harry had the element of surprise. News would never travel fast enough for the Republic to know that he had stolen a Venator, but what to do with that information…

"188, what is the status of Bespin's defenses?" Harry asked off-handedly as he and his aide entered an elevator, headed towards the docking bay. TV-188 looked up from its datapad, regarding the Captain for a moment before responding in its typically emotionless tone.

"Bespin, according to our most modern records, is defended by two Venator-Class Star Destroyers as well as fourteen Arquitens-Class Light Cruisers. However, Bespin's Defence Force has a number of outdated Dreadnaughts at their disposal as well as the obscenely and bizarrely durable 'Cloud Car'."

Ignoring the title of Bespin's defensive fighters, Harry cocked his head to one side.

"What are the defenses present on the Republic's mining facilities?" TV-188 quickly manipulate its datapad, pausing to read the unintelligible information on its screen.

"One company of clones and a detachment from Cloud City Security oversee the workers. Defensive capabilities inside the base are extremely limited, I hypothesize that they do not expect an attacker to get past the defensive fleet," TV-188 looked up to study Harry's face for a moment before continuing, "I hypothesize that is a justified belief. We are not an assault nor invasion force, my lord."

Harry cackled, patting his droid on its back.

"188, you are a brilliant mind, but you lack vision. Oversee the repairs of the _Turncoat_, and make sure those boarding pods are wrenched out."

"Very well, my lord." With that, the duo separated upon reaching the exit to the ship. While TV-188 went deeper into the spaceport, Harry made his way to the tram that went into the station proper.

"Boss, hey… Boss, wait!" Harry paused, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, his hands folding behind his back. Green peeked out against the sea of tan and silver, jumping and diving through the uncaring droids in its desperate attempt to catch up with the Captain.

"Tulleron's been dead for all of four weeks, and you've already reverted back to your lack of professionalism, Emi'rah?" Harry asked calmly, though amusement permeated in his voice as the Twi'lek came to a skidding stop before him. She paused, panting for a moment, before patting his shoulder and beaming.

"And have you forgotten that I told you to call me Emi, old man?" Harry scoffed, continuing his brisk pace to the tram. Emi scrambled to keep up, not that it was necessary as the droid operator waited for her anyways.

"How goes my ship?" Harry asked, saving himself from whatever the woman wanted to say so much that she, evidently, sprinted from engineering to the exit to catch up. Emi sighed at his questioning, running one filthy, gloved hand (a fact Harry only just now realized as he glanced at his shoulder) over her lekku.

"You mean aside from the fact that you want me to power a Providence-class number of laser cannons with what amounts to a pair of batteries strapped to a _toaster_? Pretty damn fine, I'd say." Toaster, not a native word to basic nor the natural language of the Twi'lek. It was an English word, one taught to Emi by Harry, a… _regrettable _decision. The woman's love for analogy was only made worse thanks to his teachings on British stoicism and comedy, "How you've kept that ship together without me for this long, boss, is beyond me."

"Typically, I didn't need to fight anyone. The threat of a massive destroyer used to be enough to dissuade any would-be heroes," Harry explained before shaking his head, sighing, "I miss the good old days."

"What, the birth of the universe?" Emi attempted to sound as innocent as possible, though her facade cracked as Harry turned to regard her with a quirked eyebrow.

"I'm only in my forties, Emi."

"Yeah, that's like… _twice _my age!" Emi stated, joking counting on her fingers before realizing she lacked the number to properly count high enough. Harry studied her face for a second. Hidden beneath the oil and muck was a very pretty woman, a shame she didn't get off to playing puddles of oil.

"I should have left you on that wreck," Harry announced, stepping off the tram as it stopped at the administration deck. Emi quickly joined him, under the baleful glares of Harry's subordinate officers. Many of them respected the man for his competence and professionality, but not for his choice of companion.

"But, boss, what would you do without me?!" Emi cried, ignoring the orders of one of Harry's personal Commando Droids to stay back. Harry waved it off before it could draw its blaster and execute the woman.

"Sleep, rest easy, not worry about my ship going up in flames? Take your pick."

"But, _boss!_"

Emi was not in the Confederacy because she believed their message, instead only joining because Harry did. Several years before the beginning of the Clone Wars, Harry was an enforcer in the Commerce Alliance. It was good work, requiring someone of an iron will and strong heart to enforce the demands and claim the interest of the Alliance. Harry's life had more than steeled himself to the hardships of the galaxy, but one thing he never accepted as reality was slavery.

One day, he came across a slaver fleet. Naturally, despite his orders to 'leave them', Harry engaged and decimated the fleet, freeing the slaves from captivity. The Captain of one slaver ship, however, was not so quick to surrender to the numerically superior Commerce Alliance Enforcement Fleet. On his bridge, surrounded by explosives and using a young Twi'lek as his prisoner, he demanded Harry let him go. Harry was not so willing to let slime like this man get away, however.

Perhaps it was luck, perhaps Harry accidentally let out a little magic for the first time in nearly half a decade, but he drew his sidearm with inhuman speed and accuracy, placing a blaster bolt directly into the forehead of the slaver.

Emi'rah was free of the slavers, but for a reason Harry never truly understood, she wished to join him. She swore to serve him to the best of her abilities, something that initially worried Harry given their age difference, but he soon learned of her engineering prowess. Emi'rah was stationed aboard _Ginevra's Revenge _from its days as an escort to its time as a frontline destroyer to its time today as a light convoy raider. The ship, in a sense, was her baby. Much of what allowed the ship to run as well as it did was thanks to her endless tinkering and work. Compared to the rest of the squadron, _Ginevra's Revenge _was something of an anomaly.

"On the subject of my being here, boss. The power couplings for the reactor were blown, and I'm going to need some new ones if you want to spare the ship the fate of detonating prematurely."

Harry blinked, lowered his head and sighed. Deeply.

"Again?" He asked, sounding rather put out, "This is the THIRD TIME THIS BLOODY MONTH!"

"Tell me about it," Emi agreed, crossing her arms as she sat on Harry's desk, "I keep losing engineers when it shorts out. Reminds me, I need more Engineers."

Harry groaned, rubbed his already wayward hair viciously, and then glared balefully up at the young Twi'lek.

"Somehow, someway, this is your fault."

"What?! How?!"

"The damn alternator you strapped to the reactor!"

"Boss, love you, but you're a fucking moron. The alternator makes sure the reactor DOESN'T destroy the entire ship!" Emi was standing now, pointing an accusing finger into Harry's face. Harry, instead of rising to the bait, merely steepled his fingers. Emi quickly seemed to realize her mistake when Harry spoke, calmly and carefully.

"Very well. I will concede this point," He leaned forward, looking up at her over the ridge of his glasses with the most piercing stare he could manage, "If you will answer me this. Whose fault is it that the reactor continues to short out?"

Emi paused at that, looking as if she were trying her damndest to think of a way out of this situation. After a few minutes, Harry leaned back and checked his desk clock.

"That's what I thought. Now, piss off, I've got a call to make. Talk to 188, he can requisition you what you need."

"But he's mean to me!"

"Stop trying to blow up my ship and he'll stop."

Pouting, Emi stormed off, leaving Harry to his office.

Harry waited a few moments, listening to the echoes of the young woman stomping off before reaching into his desk and removing a cloth. Sighing, he began viciously scrubbing at the black stain on his shoulder while, with his free hand, activating the holocommunicator on his desk. A few empty moments passed, punctuated only by the sound of Harry attempting to clean his shoulder.

"This had better be important, Captain." The familiar clicking of Harry's 'handler' brought his attention to the projector on his desk.

"Admiral, have I caught you at a bad time?"

Admiral Trench, in all his resplendent, cyborg glory glared at Harry with both his organic and robotic eyes, mandibles twitching angrily. Trench was far from his glory days, his face and body marred by the actions of one Anakin Skywalker. The Harch's pride was destroyed that fateful day and his notoriety marred. Harry remembered the Admiral he had once served under during their time with the Commerce Alliance. Ah, the good old days…

"Every time you call, it tends to be a bad time, Captain."

"I'm stung, Admiral. Regardless, the news I have for you today is twofold; good and bad. I also wish to… get your opinion on a plan."

"Oh, this should be good," Trench muttered, seemingly adjusting in his seat before looking back up at Harry, "Go on."

"I've lost my gravity well generator as well as a Destroyer against Anakin Skywalker." At the mention of his old enemy's name, Trench's mandibles clicked angrily. Evidently, it was still a sore spot for the venerable Admiral. Harry allowed Trench a moment to calm himself, allowing the bitter and vengeful words of the Admiral to spill over him.

"And how, _pray tell_, did you survive _Skywalker_, Captain? Unhurt, no less?" Oh, definitely a sore spot.

"It seems our _contemporaries_," Harry said the word with as much bitter dislike as he could manage, "have poisoned his view of Admiralty. He marched, marrily it seems, into a trap of mine. It cost him a Venator and his pride." Trench chuckled at that, his organic hand stroking its organic mandible counterpart.

"Good, good. Is that the good news, then?"

"Oh, it gets better. I stole the Venator he lost, with little to no damages."

Trench froze at that, his organic eyes widening.

"You _**WHAT?!**_" Harry grinned as Trench sputtered, trying to compose himself while attempting to demand details.

"What- Why- How- No, _why?!_" Trench demanded, his mandibles clicking together feverishly in the Harch's excitement.

"Why ties into my question, So I shall answer the 'what', 'how', and unasked 'who'." Trench opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded his agreement. Harry paused dramatically, deciding it would help his case if he stopped scrubbing his shoulder.

"Now, that 'what' would be the _Treatise_, a Venator-Class Star Destroyer with an obscene amount of fighter and bombers inside. Plus a crew, but, you know, they don't really want to work for me. The how, I managed to trick the Republicans into sending a ship to chase my gravity well ship. Whilst it was engaged, I called in the squadron I had in waiting, forcing it to face attack from two fronts. Alas, the ship managed to disable my destroyer, thus allowing Skywalker to escape the well. Time is now my enemy, if I wish to see my plan come to fruition then I will have to act fast… Oh, yes, and the who to your list of questions is two-fold; the ship was stolen from Anakin Skywalker and it was stolen by yours truly." Trench didn't much react to Harry's attempt at humor, evidently still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his former subordinate had bested the very man that had scarred him so. Trench's mandibles clicked rapidly as the Harch though deeply, his organic hand rising once more to stroke its organic comrade. After a few moments, he spoke, his voice low.

"This is a… surprising development, Captain. With one of Skywalker's ships, you could operate freely in Republic space until such a time it is fully reported lost, and even then only if they actively investigate you. However, I get ahead of myself. What is this plan of yours?" Harry leaned back in his seat, his hands steepling atop his desk as he began.

"The _Treatise_ is a Jedi ship, not a command ship, mind, but part of one's fleet nonetheless. It has access to nearly all aspects of Republic space, namely fuel refineries. Had I access to those codes, I could allow the _Treatise _to slip past Republic defenses, and engage their fleet from either side."

"I… see…" Trench stated, his eyes growing distant for a moment as he thought before returning to the present, "It is safe to assume you have already selected a potential target?"

"Indeed, Admiral. Of the fourteen local gas refineries, I have decided Bespin would be the ideal target." Trench started at that, actually jumping in his seat before staring at Harry as if there were something deeply wrong with him.

"Bespin? Captain, have you lost your mind?" Trench demanded, "While Bespin's fleet is not overwhelming, the support it can call upon from local sectors is!"

"Hence the _Treatise_, Admiral," Harry stated, his amused smirk never once faltering, even under the disbelief of his superior.

"... I'm going to have to drag the answer from you, aren't I, Captain?"

"Perhaps, sir, it does amuse me, but since you asked so kindly…" Harry leaned forward, his grin taking on a far more threatening edge, "My exact and foolproof plan is this: The _Treatise _enters Bespin space, requesting a refueling. The _Treatise _sends her codes, docks with the space station, unloading a few squadrons of Commando Droids in Trooper armor, taking control of the security station, comms relay, et al. Once I am certain the station cannot use its long-range relay to communicate with the local systems, I'll jump my squadron along with the 2nd and 3rd. With the _Treatise _on one side and my fleet on the other, they won't stand a chance. Once the fleet is decimated, I'll loot the Republic facilities and get the hell out of dodge before reinforcements arrive to investigate." Harry, smugly grinning, leaned back and crossed his arms, noting Trench's pleasantly surprised expression.

"That is… surprisingly sane and effective. Who are you and what have you done with Captain Potter?"

"Hey! I have plenty of good ideas that work, like the gravity-well generator!"

"Until it didn't."

"That was unrelated, _sir_. Regardless, my plan is foolproof."

"As was mine, and we both saw how that ended."

"Hardly, sir, I watched the holovids of your battle. Your actions were, to say the least-"

"Stop."

"_Incompetent._"

"Potter, I will kill you."

"Tulleron tried that, sir, and you saw how that ended for him." Trench groaned, Harry's utterly unperturbed nature getting the better of him. Harry merely smiled, finding the growing annoyance of his former commander as amusing as ever. The two near constantly butting heads during their time in the Alliance, and it was clear those old feelings and dislikes never ended.

"You are, perhaps, the dumbest Terran alive, Potter, but the luckiest."

"It's pure skill, sir." Trench sighed, clearly annoyed.

"Just do your job, Potter."

"Does that mean you agree it will work, my plan that is?"

"Just go."

"Yes, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**As with all good things, this too must come to an end...**

**I am kidding, of course. However, this specific version of Confederate is coming to an end, but worry not! Another version under the title of 'Confederate REDUX' (I am a master of naming things, I know) has already had its first chapter posted! So, if you desire more Separatist Harry action, hop on over there where I will (probably) keep posting!**

**~ Error;PleaseReload**


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